


the way he shows me i'm his and he is mine

by leftemrys



Series: wuko week [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Wuko, Wuko Week, idiots to lovers, is that... mako having emotions? wild, mako can cook, mako never finished school, wu is trying his best god bless, wu pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftemrys/pseuds/leftemrys
Summary: If you asked him when he fell in love, Wu would say it was when Mako saved his life. A grand, heroic moment; the classic way to fall for someone.And yes, Wu was most definitely in love with him by that point. But that wasn’t when he fell in love. No, that was quite a bit earlier on, in fact.Wu fell in love with Mako when he discovered Mako enjoyed cooking.or: mako cooks and wu falls in love with him
Relationships: Mako & Prince Wu (Avatar), Mako/Prince Wu (Avatar)
Series: wuko week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905526
Comments: 26
Kudos: 304
Collections: wuko fics for the soul <3





	the way he shows me i'm his and he is mine

**Author's Note:**

> wuko week day 1: first kiss/confession  
> i love them so so much! this is my first wuko fic, comments and kudos are appreciated <3
> 
> tw for food  
> title from hozier's cherry wine

If you asked him when he fell in love, Wu would say it was when Mako saved his life. A grand, heroic moment; the classic way to fall for someone. And yes, Wu was most definitely in love with him at that point. But that wasn’t when he fell in love with Mako. No, that was quite a bit earlier on, in fact.

Wu fell in love with Mako when he discovered Mako enjoyed cooking.

Wu had never cooked in his life. If you asked him to boil water, he’d most certainly set something on fire. So, when there was a minor incident in the Four Elements hotel kitchen involving a feral raccoon-squirrel and several large bags of flour, Wu was getting increasingly concerned about what he'd have for dinner. Yes, they could go out to a restaurant, but he’d put on a new moisturizer today and the packaging said to avoid direct sunlight for the rest of the day. And thus, the product of a feral raccoon-squirrel and an expensive skincare routine was that Wu was lying on the couch getting progressively hungrier.

Mako, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be hungry at all. Wu watched him out of the corner of his eye, observing Mako as he sat at the coffee table writing carefully on an envelope.

Sitting up from his hunger-induced sofa slump, Wu turned to face Mako. “What’cha doing there, Mako?”

“Writing to Korra.” came the short reply.

“Ooo, what’cha saying?”

Wu listened as Mako began to list off the things he’d discussed in his letter. The time. The weather. Work. Booooring. Wu cut him off: “Mako, Mako, buddy. No offense meant here, but I highly doubt the Avatar wants to hear about the weather forecast halfway across the world. Don’t you guys have other stuff to talk about? Like her recovery?”

Mako frowned, not meeting Wu’s eyes. “Well… yeah, it’s not that I don’t want to talk about it with her. Writing is just not my thing, I guess.” He shrugged, sealing the envelope.

“What do you mean, ‘not your thing’? It’s a thing for everyone!” Wu noticed Mako’s frown deepen a bit more at that. He got the distinct impression that writing was a touchy subject.

“Writing isn’t ‘for everyone’. Not everyone got years of private schooling, Wu.”

Wu hadn’t thought about it like that.

“I’m guessing you didn’t, then.”

Mako sighed. “No. Being orphaned does that to a guy.”

Wu’s stomach dropped. Mako had never talked about his past – or maybe Wu had never asked. Either way, he’d had no idea Mako was an orphan. And from a young age, by the sounds of it.

Mako continued, “I can write, I’m not stupid. I’m just not good at long letters or fancy emotional writing. I’m not stupid, it’s just not my thing.” He looked uncomfortable. Shit. Wu was trying to encourage him, not make him feel worse!

“Woah, woah, buddy. I don’t think you’re stupid, not at all,” Wu paused, partly for dramatic effect and partly to gather his thoughts, “I… I spent a lot of time in school. I guess I figured everyone did. But it looks like that’s another thing I’m wildly ignorant about. Hey, how about this: if you want, I could help you with your letters? You could, like, dictate them and I’d write them down. If you want, that is. No pressure or anything.” Keep it chill, Wu. Just one bro offering to help his bro to write. No big deal.

Mako looked almost… surprised. Wow, was Wu being thoughtful really such a shock to him? Wu was a thoughtful person, under all the hair gel and dashing smiles! Honestly.

A quiet hum from Mako brought Wu’s focus back to the present, and he decided to take the hum as a ‘yes please Wu, that would be helpful.’

“Great, well it’s settled then. You cook me dinner and I’ll help you write!”

Mako looked up from the envelope with a start. “Wait, I never agreed to cook-“

“Hmm, I think I remember you saying something like, ‘yes Prince Wu, it would be an honour to cook dinner for you’ about thirty seconds ago.”

“I did not!”

“Did so!”

With an impressively long eye roll, Mako conceded defeat. Wu was a little surprised; Mako never usually gave in that easily, not that Wu was complaining. Victory was sweet.

“Fine. I’ll make you dinner, but I’m NOT making you octopus fritters because they smell terrible. No way.”

Wu rolled his eyes in a rather good impression of Mako, if he did say so himself. “Always so dramatic, Mako. And they do not! You can make whatever, so long as it’s edible. If it's not, I am literally going to starve to death.”

“And you call me dramatic. Fine, I’ll make dumplings.”

Wu did a little victory dance in his head. (or in real life. He wasn’t sure.)

It’d been years since he’d had dumplings, not since his old chef back in Ba Sing Se made them. That chef was dead now, killed in the riots when the kingdom fell. It sounded bad, but her death had hurt Wu more than the death of his aunt. The chef had always been nice to him; she snuck a young Wu treats every year on his birthday and helped him mend his brand new jacket when he’d ran to her crying that he’d torn it and his aunt would never forgive him. Wu steered his thoughts away from the people he’d lost, and back to the present where Mako had moved into the kitchen and put an apron on.

“You like dumplings, right?” Mako checked.

“Dumplings are great, boss.” Wu had taken to calling Mako that lately, mostly to wind him up since he’d heard Mako call Chief Beifong that over the phone. Wu was pretty sure she’d laughed at the title too.

Mako sighed at the nickname and crossed over to worktop, which Wu had just realised had an oven and other kitchen-y things. Had that always been there? Huh. Wu flopped back onto the sofa as Mako set to work mixing up a dough. He let his mind wander, thinking about what he’d learned that day. Mako was an orphan? Did he have to raise Bolin? Wu had so many questions. Maybe for another time. He promised himself he’d work harder to understand Mako; it was the least he could do, after everything Mako had done for him. Even if it was Mako’s job. (Wu liked to ignore that fact – it was nice to pretend that Mako wanted to hang around for more reasons than just the paycheck.)

Wu sat up on the couch and looked over at Mako, who was kneading the dough on the kitchen worktop. With his sleeves rolled up. And flour on his cheek. And a dorky little smile on his face like he truly wasn’t worried about anything in that moment, the kind of smile Wu had never seen him do in public.

Wu wouldn’t mind seeing that smile more often. He wouldn’t mind seeing those sleeves rolled up more often either.

For a few minutes, Wu just watched Mako. He seemed different; younger, less stressed. His shoulders were relaxed and his brow not furrowed, a sight Wu rarely saw on him.

Maybe Mako should cook more often.

Maybe Wu should’ve given him the chance to do it a lot earlier.

Wu had been trying to figure Mako out for quite some time. He was so wound up, constantly alert, never able to relax. For Wu, he could relax at the spa, or when he shopped. He’d learned, however, through trial and error, that those things didn’t relax Mako; nor did the zoo, nor the library, not a drive around the city. Cooking, though? Maybe cooking was Mako’s spa day. He seemed so content, calm, happy; Wu hadn’t seen this side of him before, but he’d been searching damn hard for it. And spirits, was it worth the search to see him this happy.

The room remained contentedly quiet for a little while longer; with Mako focussed on the dumplings, and with Wu focussed on Mako. On his happiness, his little smile, his steady breathing. And his spirits-damned arms, and that smudge of flour on his cheek that still hadn’t gone away.

“Hey, Mako?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there, uh, any way I can help? With the cooking?” Mako looked surprised (again?!? Wu was good at being nice! Why was everyone always surprised!).

“Uh, yeah. You can chop these vegetables?” It was spoken like a question, as if Wu would ever say no to anything Mako asked of him. Now, he’d just have to figure how the hell to chop those vegetables.

Several minutes of intensely focussed vegetable-cutting later, with multiple near-deadly knife slips, Wu had successfully cut up a carrot. He felt quite proud. “Hey, Mako, look! I did it!”

Wu expected the usual eye roll in response. What he didn’t anticipate was the fond smile that followed it, and the soft ‘thank you’ as Mako scooped the carrot pieces off the chopping board. Wu could feel himself blushing, and he thanked the spirits that Mako had already turned back to the stove.

“Oh, it was nothing, just another day in the life for Wu the vegetable-chopping extraordinaire.” Wu’s voice was coming out a bit higher pitched than he wanted, but any concerns about that were erased in the moments following, because Mako laughed. An ACTUAL laugh. Not a chuckle, or a sarcastic ‘ha ha’, but a real laugh.

Wu wanted to record that laugh on a music-player and listen to it every day for the rest of his life.

When his brain finally recovered from its ‘oh-my-god-his-laugh-is-so-beautiful’ crisis, Wu realised that the food was almost ready. He heard his stomach rumble in anticipation. Mako, presumably hearing the noise that sounded not unlike a baby badger mole learning to earthbend, smiled and said, “I think we’re almost done – pass the salt?”

Wu obliged, running on autopilot. Something about the way Mako said ‘we’ set butterflies off in his stomach. ‘Yeah,’ he thought, ‘we made dinner. us. together.’

The sun was setting as they sat down to eat, golden light filling the room. Wu couldn’t take his eyes off Mako; he looked ethereal, sat with his legs crossed on his seat and glowing like an angel. Wu knew he was staring too much, but he couldn’t bring himself to care; who knew when – if ever – he’d get to see this peaceful, soft Mako again? Spirit be damned, he’d make the most of this chance to stare. And so, they sat together and ate quietly, enjoying the sunset and the company. The food, obviously, was amazing; Wu eventually ran out of adjectives to praise it with and moved on to similes, declaring it was ‘perfectly warm like a heated spa pool’. The descriptions grew more and more ridiculous; ‘nice and salty like a distant relative who disproves of your hair styling choices’, ‘as sweet as a baby badger mole when they first hear singing’, and so on. To Wu’s joy, he managed to make Mako blush just a teensy bit, a tiny little pink tint, and that made all the word acrobatics worth it.

Wu honestly wasn’t even sure if the evening so far had been real, it felt so perfect and warm; but fuck it, he decided, if that wasn’t real then it was the best damn daydream his brain had ever thought up (even better than the one where he became a famous mover star, and the one where he was a badger mole in a traveling circus).

“Do we, uh, tidy up now?” Wu asked, pulling his mind back to reality. Mako nodded, gathering up his own plate and taking it to the kitchen. Wu followed suit, having absolutely no idea what ‘tidying up’ actually entailed. He didn’t really care though – he was doing it with Mako, so it would be nice.

“Okay, I’m gonna put you on drying duty because I have a funny feeling you don’t know how to use a sink.” Mako said, handing Wu a towel.

Wu feigned outrage but took the towel anyway. “I totally know how to use a sink! In fact, they call me Wu the Sink Expert back in Ba Sing Se.”

The inevitable eye roll came, but it was again followed by that soft smile that Wu had fallen in love with over the last few hours.

(Well, maybe that smile wasn’t the only thing he’d fallen in love with.)

“World to Wu?? You alive in there?” Mako called Wu back to reality.

“Huh?”

“I said, you can put that tray in the oven to dry.”

Wu recoiled in mock horror. “Mako, you know I love you, but there is no way I’m going anywhere near that monster machine. The heat will ruin my hair! Nope, no way. Sorry buddy!”

Wu expected a quick jibe in response as Mako took the tray himself, but he had gone quiet. A different kind of quiet to a few minutes ago. A bad kind of quiet.

“World to Mako? You okay in there?”

Mako shut the oven door. The noise rang out through the room.

Wu panicked slightly as he felt the peace slipping through his fingers. “I, uh, sorry, I should’ve just put the tray away myself-“

“Damn it, Wu!” Mako looked angry, or sad, or some unclear negative feeling.

Wu hated it; he felt his face crumple slightly, and he looked down at the floor to hide it.

“Shit, no, I’m sorry Wu. It’s not your fault. I just-“ Mako stopped himself, taking a deep breath. Then he started again. “You can’t just offer to write for someone out of nowhere, and then help them cook and try really hard and look all adorable, and stare at them all evening for no explainable reason, and toss around compliments like it’s easy for you, and then say you love them in the middle of washing up and act like it’s just normal! It’s not fair!” his voice broke off, and when he spoke again he was quieter, sadder, “it’s not fair to make me fall in love with you when you don’t feel the same way.”

A resounding silence filled the air.

_It’s not fair to make me fall in love with you when you don’t feel the same way._

Wu just stared at Mako, searching his eyes for if this was some kind of twisted joke. There was no humour there though, only frustration and pain.

“Mako, you idiot.” Wu could barely hold back his grin. “I’m in love with you too.”

Wu could see the cogs turning in Mako’s mind, so he reinforced his point. “Mako, do you really expect to cook for someone and look all happy and soft and beautiful, and have your sleeves rolled up and flour on your face and that smile, and watch the sunset with them, and teach them how to do the dishes, and expect them not to fall in love with you too?”

“Wait, I have flour on my face?”

“THAT’S what you got from that? Yeah, you do, you big idiot.”

Wu couldn’t stop smiling. He reached up and brushed the flour off Mako’s cheek, the tips of his fingers burning with the contact. He went to pull his hand away afterwards but it ended up resting on Mako’s shoulder; Mako, who was standing a lot nearer than he was thirty seconds ago, and who looked like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. “You love me?” Mako asked quietly, eyes full of hope.

“Yeah, Mako, I do.”

The grin that plastered itself on Mako’s face was the most beautiful thing Wu had ever seen.

“Well… if you love me, and I love you, which I do, then can I kiss you?” it was nearly a whisper, but it was the loudest and clearest thing Wu had ever heard. He didn’t bother answering, just rose onto his tiptoes and pressed his lips to Mako’s.

They stayed like that for quite some time, safe and warm and content in each other's arms.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! comments and kudos are appreciated :) wuko rights!!


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